by L. V Russell
I shrugged. “Well, it looked like a really shitty way to die.”
“You need to work on controlling your Glamour,” he said, barely backing down, but the edge to his voice had softened. “Start gathering water; everyone is going to be thirsty.”
He turned his back on me, striding over the stone floor to his knights. I swore at him under my breath before I made my way over to Laphaniel.
Fell shifted on the ground, his head lifting from Laphaniel’s shoulder. He blinked up at me, eyes narrowing.
“Are you okay?”
Fell didn’t answer, but turned his gaze upon his sword, not knowing the tunnels stood empty.
“What the hell happened?”
“I made a mistake,” I said, passing him one of the cups of water I had filled. He gulped it down, eyeing the second one. “I managed to kill the wraiths.”
Fell fought to get up, nudging Laphaniel to free the arm that was trapped behind him. Laphaniel groaned and stirred.
“Get off,” he mumbled, giving Fell a sharp kick.
Fell shoved himself to his feet, keeping a firm grip on his empty cup. He wove on unsteady feet to the clear waters running through the rock, pushing aside the thirsty horses to swallow down more water.
“Teya?” The sleepiness was gone from Laphaniel’s eyes instantly as he sat up, his hands firmly on my shoulders while he looked me over. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” I said, passing him the water. He drank deeply before he trailed one hand over my face, then the other, eyes searching for any signs of hurt. “I’m okay.”
“How long were we out?”
“Three days.” The words caught in my throat. “I could have killed you all. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
He pulled me to him, hugging me close, his lips were at my cheek, his face against mine while he breathed me in.
“You were alone down here.”
“Not quite.”
He drew back. “Where are they?”
“All gone.”
“Did they hurt you?”
I shook my head. “I obliterated them.”
“You controlled your Glamour?”
“It controlled me,” I said, closing my eyes, remembering the way I had freely lost myself to it. “And the most awful part was, I loved it. I snuffed out the lives of those things like they were nothing, I didn’t think twice. I could have easily destroyed you all, and I don’t think I could have stopped myself.”
“You did stop.” Laphaniel didn’t move away from me.
“This time,” I answered, unable to shake the worry of how easy it took over everything. How quickly.
“I vote we get out of these forsaken caves!” Oliver bellowed from the other side of the cavern. “And find some food, I’m starving. Then we can march straight to Luthien and stick the bitch’s head on a pike!”
A roar erupted from the Raven knights, a battle cry that revealed their own thirst for blood and mayhem. It had almost been too easy to forget they were Unseelie, that their lives were filled with shadows and lust for chaos in a way that the Seelie were not.
They never hid those desires behind a pretence at civility, they were proud to bare their teeth and unsheathe their claws.
“Pack up, boys,” Cole called over the still rebounding echo. “Tonight, we’ll feast on meat and toast Liam’s legacy until the gods themselves hear us!”
Another roar, a shout filled with the promises of violence. Loss and pain lingered within the echo, an undercurrent of grief no one would voice.
“To honour our dead,” Ferdia began, his black hair a dishevelled mess around his head, “the Unseelie drink until they pass out. The wake can last for days and days, usually at least a few more die in the aftermath, and we then must honour them too. The longest funeral spanned eight moons, and we lost count of how many souls departed.”
“So, it’s an excuse to get utterly wasted?”
The answering grin upon Ferdia’s face was nothing short of depraved. “And to bathe the paths in red.”
He gave a cutting glance at Laphaniel, before winking at me, saying nothing else as he re-joined the rest of the knights already filtering out of the chamber.
We followed the empty tunnel, walking beside the clear stream that flowed through its bowels. Silver fish swam in little shoals against the gentle current, gliding between the rocks that had been worn smooth with the passing of water. Overhead, giant stalagmites hung from the tunnel roof, creeping down so low that we had to duck around them. They dripped water, crystal droplets leaking down from above to pool in mirror-like puddles upon the floor.
Nothing crept within the dim light but us, our only source of light what was left of the candles and the flames the fey could conjure from their hands. My own burned painlessly against my fingers, and I caught Laphaniel look at his own hands with longing.
“You miss it, don’t you?”
Laphaniel dropped his hands to his sides. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. “I keep reaching for it—because it is…was, as natural as breathing, but it’s not there anymore.”
Something else he had lost. I had no idea how I was going to tell him that, along with his Glamour…the very essence that had made him who he was, he also no longer had his soul.
He saw the look on my face and misread it. “I guess it will get easier when Luthien is gone, when I can feel like it meant something.”
“It does mean something,” I replied, taking his hand in the darkness. “More than I can ever say.”
He squeezed back, touch strong and sure. “I want to wake up six months from now, a year maybe. I want a glimpse of how this feels when it’s all over.”
“And spoil the surprise?”
“I think I’ve had enough to last a hundred lifetimes.”
“Can you picture it then?” I asked, ducking low to avoid the rocks overhead as the cave narrowed and finally revealed an exit. “A life after all this?”
“I try to.” He let go of my hand and clambered out behind me, blinking in the sudden light.
Moonlight, fat and bright, glowed overhead in a cloudless dark sky. The stars blazed back within the inky hues, racing across the night in blurs of silver. Thick, sprawling evergreens towered up and up, the rich scent of pine mixing with the sharpness of the frost upon the ground. The night was cold and brisk; the frost wouldn’t be melting anymore.
“What do you imagine?” I asked, following the Raven knights down into a shallow clearing.
“I imagine simply being able to love you without the fear that something is going to snatch you away,” Laphaniel began, bending down to scoop logs from the hard ground. “That one day, I’ll be able to lie down beside you and wake up in the morning without wondering where the hell I am. I just want to be able to fall asleep again without help. Without the nightmares. I imagine staying in one place, to have a home again, with you.”
“Do you ever see children in that future?” I asked, regretting the question instantly at the look on his face. “Not now, obviously. Not for a long, long while, but someday?”
“No.”
He didn’t hesitate as he spoke that little word, instantly shutting down the conversation, one I knew we would have to bring up again at some point, somewhere quiet and private and away from everything else.
My fantasy was so close to his, all except for one little detail, and I couldn’t shake it. Ever since the River of Tears, a little raven-haired girl had snuck into my hopes for our future and taken root. I wasn’t sure if I could let that go, if I could let her go.
“This isn’t the place to talk about this,” I said, and Laphaniel’s eyes flashed as he looked up from where he was gathering wood. The others glanced up and quickly busied themselves with tasks that took them away from us.
“No, it’s not.”
The memory of that little bed wouldn’t leave me, the scent of the wildflowers hanging from the painted door lingered too. I could still hear laughter, the call to watch. And it didn’t matte
r that it wasn’t real, that it wasn’t even a memory, not really. The part of me that so desperately wanted to belong to something pure and unbroken longed for it.
Even little Alice had awoken something in me. My heart ached at the thought of her clinging to Laphaniel, at her terrified screams. How his arms had tightened on her as the Scara made to snatch her away.
I didn’t know if a life with just Laphaniel would ever be quite enough.
“Are you coming with us, Seelie boy?” Fell called out over the clearing, spinning a knife in the air before catching it by the tip. “See if you can hit anything, not two feet in front of you.”
Laphaniel caught the bow that was flung to him and swiped the quiver of arrows from beside the few remaining packs we had.
“I won’t be long,” he said.
“Bring back a stag,” I called after him, but he had already disappeared into the shadows.
I ignited the campfire and helped Oliver tie a spit over it while the others hunted for food. We were all hoping for meat for dinner; after three days of sleeping, my companions were starving, and it would have been utterly foolish to even think about storming Luthien on empty bellies.
Oliver said little, his knife lying across his lap while he ran a sharpening stone across the blade in long, slow strokes. I caught him shooting glances my way while I poked the fire, looking like he wanted nothing more than to pull the edge of the knife along my throat.
“I never wanted anyone to die because of me,” I began, not taking my eyes off Oliver’s knife. “I didn’t get to know Liam…”
“You don’t get to speak his name,” Oliver hissed. “You do not know any of us, Queen of Seelie. You never will. Just pray we can take down your enemy before my King wipes the entire Seelie Court from these lands.”
“I almost forgot you were Unseelie,” I said, forcing calm into my voice even though my heart hammered at the pure rage in his voice. “Thank you for reminding me.”
The stone glided down the blade one more time before the knife sang through the air and landed a breath away from my feet. “I doubt you’ll forget again.”
I would not.
“Slim pickings,” Cole said, striding back to the campfire, tossing a skinny doe onto the ground with a wet thump. “Everything else has moved deeper into the woods or underground. The snow is coming, and the wolves are out. We rest up here, gather strength, tomorrow we end this.” He paused, noting the blade I held in my hands. “What’s going on?”
“Just admiring Oliver’s knife,” I said, fingers tracing the intricately carved marking on the hilt. “He was demonstrating how swiftly it flies through the air. It’s remarkable, really, isn’t it, Oliver?”
The fair-haired faerie said nothing, hand shooting up to snatch the handle from in front of his face as I whirled it back at him.
“You should be careful nobody slits your throat for it.”
Laphaniel looked between us, hand reaching for his blade. “Did you throw that at her?”
A sneer began to lift the edge of Oliver’s lip. “And if I did?”
Cole grabbed Laphaniel by the shoulder, pulling him back before he could strike. “If you did, you ignorant fuck, I’d beat you until you wept for whatever whore birthed you. You would draw blood on what we are charged to protect? The sister to your Queen? A Queen in her own gods-damned right? I don’t give a shit if you’re happy with our task, none of us are, but we get it done, understand?”
Oliver said nothing, glaring, his sneer nowhere to be seen.
“I said, do you understand?”
We all startled at Cole’s tone, at the sheer command within his words.
“Yes, sir,” Oliver said, baring teeth. He refused to look at me.
“Why is everyone standing around?” Cole continued, causing me to jump to my feet. “Get the deer gutted so we can eat it.”
The others scattered, busying themselves away from Cole’s temper. Oliver stormed into the shadows, flicking his knife over in his hand, so it glinted in the moonlight.
“He blames me for Liam’s death,” I whispered to Laphaniel, kneeling beside him while his skilled hands freed the deer from its hide. “He’s not really wrong.”
Laphaniel worked the knife cleanly up the middle, slicing it to remove the insides, passing them to Ferdia, who added them to a bubbling pot.
“It’s easier to blame someone,” Ferdia began, wiping blood from his hands. “Because it’s easier to deal with anger than anything else. We all volunteered for this; Cole gave us the choice. We all thought it better to come along than stay behind and risk the wrath…”
He stopped, barely able to conceal his flinch. With a quick tilt of his head, he scanned the treetops, no doubt wondering if they were whispering back to his king.
“Can I help?” I gestured to the deer, earning a grateful nod from Ferdia.
Laphaniel handed me the knife and showed me where to cut, which bits were worth saving, and what to throw away. I helped tie it over the fire, watching as fat trickled down the meat to spit in the flames below.
“Back home, meat was all cut up ready for you,” I said to no one in particular. “With plastic wrapping and labels. My mum hated touching it, she would always prise the plastic off and toss into a tray. It would be cooked for about six hours, too, until it was utterly ruined.”
“What a waste,” Ferdia said, towering over me to dip his fingers in the discarded pieces of deer before sucking on them.
“I suppose it was.”
“What do you prefer?” he asked, his lips red.
I glanced down at my hands, tinged with blood, at the carcass charring on the spit, the wild scent making my mouth water.
“This.”
Ferdia tore a strip of meat from the spit, ignoring Fell as he smacked him away. “When did you realise that Faerie was your true home?”
“Far too late,” I said, brushing my hand over the flames, so they danced over my fingers, coaxing the embers up until they tangled over my hands, dangling over the firepit like puppet strings. “But I know it now, and that’s all that matters.”
I stirred up the wood smoke, swirling it into lazy spirals before conjuring up the shapes of animals. Wolves and bears came to life at my hand, miniature beasts that danced and twisted in the flames, burning blue within the ashen smoke.
The others watched, all settling down around the fire before they made their own monsters appear from the smoke. Imps and goblins and creatures with wide, open mouths all writhed over the fire, spinning, and flailing until the flames spat with the excitement of it all.
The Raven knights took turns in destroying each other’s creations, revelling in the violence of it while I sat content with making my animals twirl and spin for me. Laphaniel sat nearby, and for a moment, I mistook the look on his face for yearning, but then he leant forwards, his arms resting against his knees.
He watched my bears dance with a look of wonder, so entranced that he didn’t notice me staring at him. His head tilted to the side, strange blue eyes following the wolves as they leapt over the logs. I had them dance for him, changing them, so they stood upright, forms melting into two dancers that swayed to music made only for them.
Over the flames, over the spirited smoke, he met my eye, and he smiled, a real smile, one I had missed and longed for and feared I wouldn’t see again. It brightened everything, lighting a hope deep inside me, reminding me of what we fought for…a chance of happiness. Our happiness. Our forever.
Chapter Thirty-One
We made it to Luthien’s mansion before the twin suns reached their summit in the sky, walking without rest while the snow began to fall heavily around us. We had walked until the odd light of the Unseelie lands lightened, revealing the brighter, but no less treacherous, land of the Seelie. Above us, the clouds gleamed, showering us with unblemished snow.
Nothing came for us; no one came.
Within the snow drenched gardens, there was not a sound. The trees themselves remained still, as if watching. Ou
r footprints marked the only paths through the snow, so I could almost believe the place was deserted.
Almost.
Luthien’s mansion stood perfect, winter roses bloomed fat and proud around the white stonework, trailing up around the towers, heedless of the cold. There was bated quietness to it that unsettled me, like it waited.
“Where is everyone?” I whispered the words, tugging my cloak tighter, not trusting the leering trees.
The Raven knights surrounded me, swords ready, bodies as tense as mine. Glamour flickered in the air, crackling and on edge. Laphaniel stood at my side, his blade in his hand, looking every inch my knight.
“She knows we’re coming,” he said, eyes focused upon my hands as I worked my Glamour into them. The threads fumbled, panicked, and weak.
“Then why not come out to meet us?” Oliver’s voice rumbled over the gardens, his echo joined by the indignant cries of a few restless crows.
I stared up at the cold beauty of the mansion, dread coiling tight in my stomach at the memory of the last time I set foot inside its halls. How it had changed everything. “Because she’s waiting for me.”
We moved on silent feet through the eerie gardens, the unnatural stillness raising the hairs on my neck. My hands trembled at my side, fear creeping up my spine to send waves of Glamour pulsing from me. I caught the sparks and held tight. I didn’t dare let them go again.
Beneath my feet, the garden began to awaken. Grass shot up to wind around my legs, the branches from the quiet trees stretched closer, blooms of pink bursting from slumbering limbs.
“Careful,” Cole said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Control it.”
I took a breath, coiling the glittering threads tight around my hands. Snow buried the new shoots of green, the blossom I had awoken, withered to dust, and was carried away by the wind. Glamour ached beneath my skin, thrumming with wild energy I could barely contain. It wanted out. I wanted to let it out.
Laphaniel curled his hand around mine, steady and grounded. We had both faced the towering mansion together once before, hand in hand, and had walked away from it. My free hand went to the star at my neck, a symbol of the light in the darkness, of hope in hopeless places.